Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1222 - 593: Interview (Part 2)

Within the military’s framework, medical personnel might not engage in direct front-line combat, yet accompanying assault teams into perilous territories is a standard duty.

Furthermore, those aspiring to medical roles within the Special Search Team are obligated to partake in tomorrow’s rigorous wilderness physical examination held in West Mountain.

Such treatment clearly sets them apart from those in ordinary civilian positions.

Fang Cheng’s thoughts involuntarily drifted to the image of Shi Chengyi’s smiling countenance.

Back then, Director Shi had confidently assured him that the Medical Team’s duties would be light, aligning with Fang Cheng’s desire for a peaceful existence as a distinguished gentleman.

It now appears he might have been ensnared by the cunning words of that old fox.

"Whew—"

A deep exhalation resounded from beside him.

Ma Donghe shifted his imposing, bear-like frame, eliciting a strained groan from the metal bench beneath him.

Observing another pallid-faced candidate emerge from the interrogation chamber, he turned to Fang Cheng and whispered into his ear:

"Ah Cheng, cast your gaze upon these trembling wretches. I wager the examiners within harbor some truly fearsome interrogative methods."

"Perhaps it will be akin to cinematic portrayals, securing one to an electric chair while force-feeding truth serums and hooking up lie detectors!"

Despite his efforts to maintain a low tone, his words carried with remarkable clarity through the hushed corridor.

A few apprehensive young candidates nearby, preparing themselves nervously, overheard this and grew even more ashen, gulping audibly.

"Pray tell, esteemed companions, do you possess some arcane knowledge of the proceedings?"

An abrupt voice interjected.

Fang Cheng turned to behold a slender young man with pointed ears, who had maneuvered his way from the adjacent seat.

This was the very same wiry individual who, two days prior, during the distribution of admission cards at the service hall, had lurked discreetly behind the throng, straining to overhear their conversation.

This fellow seemed to revel in eavesdropping, his ears disproportionately large, resembling two expansive fans capturing the faintest breezes.

Ma Donghe favored the skinny fellow with a dismissive glance, emitted a cold snort, and averted his gaze, clearly disinclined to engage.

Yet, the thin youth, unfazed by Ma Donghe’s icy demeanor, pressed on with familiarity.

He rubbed his hands together, plastered on a genial smile, and drew nearer, his voice adopting a sickly sweet tone:

"Good sir, observe your imposing physique, your commanding presence—you are undoubtedly a peerless expert, one of exceptional caliber. Upon entering the examination chamber, the examiners will surely be mesmerized by your palpable qi field."

"And this distinguished brother adorned with spectacles, possessing an exceptionally handsome visage and a posture as unwavering as a mountain—he is, without question, a candidate of confident genius!"

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Hou Peng. I extend my greetings. Might I humbly inquire for your honorable names?"

While accolades can fade, insincere flattery remains eternally potent.

Ma Donghe, initially indifferent, found Hou Peng’s relentless adulation surprisingly pleasing.

He haughtily lifted his chin and cleared his throat:

"Youngster, your discernment is keen. I am Ma Donghe, and this is my brother, Fang Cheng."

Upon receiving this information, Hou Peng immediately clasped his hands in a respectful salute, his smile widening into a broad grin:

"A profound honor! To be in the presence of Brother Ma and Brother Fang—my sincerest apologies, my humblest apologies!"

He then cautiously leaned forward, lowering his voice as he inquired:

"Regarding the test you mentioned, Brother Ma, could you elaborate on its precise nature?"

Ma Donghe crossed his arms, adopting an air of studied mystery:

"Given your evident perceptiveness, I shall generously impart this knowledge."

"The psychological assessment for the Special Search Team is quite peculiar. The cornerstone lies in adhering to eight crucial words: remain composed, uphold integrity!"

"Failing this, whatever your deepest fears may be, they shall be unleashed upon you. Should your resolve falter and you succumb to panic, resulting in utter humiliation, you will be swiftly dismissed."

"Should you betray your true self and reveal your authentic nature during the trial, the consequences will extend far beyond a mere rejection of the interview..."

At this juncture, Ma Donghe paused deliberately, his expression one of theatrical suspense:

"Have you perchance perused the epic 'Journey to the West'? When the Demon-Revealing Mirror exposes a demon lacking formidable backing, you comprehend the inevitable outcome, do you not?"

"I comprehend, I fully comprehend."

Hou Peng listened, utterly captivated, nodding with the fervent energy of a pecking chick.

"Mere comprehension is insufficient."

Ma Donghe emitted two cold chuckles, scrutinizing Hou Peng from head to toe before delivering a resounding slap on his shoulder:

"Haha, the Special Search Team's interviews are arduous precisely because the examination seizes control of your psyche. If your inherent disposition leans towards cunning, do not deceive yourself into believing you can masquerade as an upright gentleman!"

Hou Peng, receiving this pronouncement, was once again rendered speechless.

He was on the verge of attempting to ingratiate himself further and pose additional questions.

"Click."

The metal door of Room 3 swung inward from within.

A staff member, clad in a police uniform, emerged carrying a numbered placard. With a sweep of his gaze across the hall, he projected his voice loudly:

"Number 253, Ma Donghe!"

"Present!"

Ma Donghe sprang to his feet with alacrity.

However, in his overly vigorous movement, his knee inadvertently struck the back of the chair ahead with a dull thud.

He winced, suppressing a cry of pain with considerable effort.

Observing the outward confidence yet inner anxiety of Ma Donghe, Fang Cheng let out a chuckle.

"Donghe, do your best. If you perform as you did in the preliminary test, you're guaranteed to achieve a high score."

"Thank you for your kind words!"

Ma Donghe responded with a broad laugh, vigorously rubbing his cheeks. He then strode forward with a swagger, entering Room 3.

As the door swung shut once more, the corridor relapsed into an oppressive silence. Fang Cheng leaned back against his chair, shut his eyes, and began to rest. The True Qi within him circulated slowly along his meridians. His consciousness gradually deepened, obscuring the surrounding sounds of breathing and heartbeats, thus stabilizing his internal state. The killing intent and sharpness ingrained in his very bones were entirely consolidated, locked securely within the depths of his Inner World's blood moon. At this moment, Fang Cheng's breathing was deep and his muscles were relaxed. To any observer, he appeared as nothing more than an ordinary, harmless university graduate. Only the potent Qi and blood characteristic of a Martial Arts Grandmaster remained faintly dormant, not yet dissipated.

Seated beside him, Hou Peng rolled his eyes, his attention fixated on Fang Cheng. With Ma Donghe occupied inside, he saw an opportunity to strike up a conversation with this cultured, amiable, and handsome individual, aiming to expand his social network. "Uh, Brother Fang..."

Hou Peng had only moved half a step forward when, before he could finish his sentence, his throat felt as if grasped tightly by an unseen hand. He shivered abruptly. As a cultivator endowed with extremely sharp perception, Hou Peng's sense of danger far surpassed that of ordinary individuals. He could even assert with confidence that it exceeded ninety-nine percent of Special Ability Users.

The instant he drew near Fang Cheng, he perceived an incredibly intimidating pressure emanating from the young man with closed eyes. This was not a deliberate display of killing intent; rather, it was an absolute, life-level suppression. He felt akin to a rabbit attempting to approach a slumbering lion. Even the slightest casual movement from Fang Cheng could unleash an aura that would make his hair stand on end. Cold sweat instantly broke out on Hou Peng's forehead. He forcibly swallowed the words of flattery that had reached his lips and quietly retreated to his seat. Then, rigidly adhering to the chair back, he dared not make a single sound.

A cold wind snaked through the ventilation ducts, swirling thin white mist. Occasionally, the sound of the iron door opening would elicit a wave of alarmed glances. Then a new name would be called, and another person would confront their fears and step into the unknown.

Time crawled by, minute by minute. Room 3's door remained shut, and Ma Donghe had not yet emerged. Fang Cheng found himself secretly wondering if his companion had managed to defeat both the illusions and the examiners within. Suddenly, the iron door of Room 6 creaked open.

"Number 263, Fang Cheng."

The voice of the staff member announcing the name echoed through the corridor. Fang Cheng opened his eyes, a golden glint flashing deep within his pupils. He rose to his feet, smoothing his attire, unconcerned by the varied gazes directed at him. He then walked steadily towards the doorway that seemed to beckon towards the Netherworld.

The heavy iron door closed slowly behind him, severing all contact with the outside world. Fang Cheng quickly scanned the room. Only a single lamp illuminated the space, casting a dim light. A blurred figure sat silently in the shadows. Before this figure rested an Ancient Bronze Bell, its surface marred by patches of green rust. The dim light reflected off the twisted human face patterns etched onto the bell's exterior. Standing beside the figure was the staff member who had guided him in moments earlier.

"Please, have a seat," the shadowed figure spoke faintly.